Crashed.

Part 1: Crashed

Amy:

Detention with Mrs Alexis is such a bore. I lean back in my wooden chair, it creaks in response but Mrs Alexis barely raises her head from that Stephen King book she seems so drawn to. Her half-moon glasses are perched on the end of her long pointy nose as her eyes dart from left to right to follow each page. But at least her task is more interesting than what I've been assigned to do: copy 50 pages from the dictionary for swearing repeatedly during an assignment before storming out the classroom, once scolded at by the teacher. Apparently people only use swear words when they can't find a better 'decent' word to use in its place. Therefore I apparently need to learn better English, hence my daunting task.

Of course detention was my plan all along. Even if it does mean two dead long hours of this labour. This is a lot better than having to bear another five an a half hours at 'home' from end of school till I sleep. Even this torturous boredom beats it, and from the worried glances Mrs Alexis keeps giving me from over her book, she suspects why I chose to have detention too. Maybe I should have tried not to look too pleased when she said she would keep me in after school. I'm a terrible actress, but maybe I could've added in a bit more moaning and groaning before I was frog marched to her office?

Still, it doesn't matter now. What's done is done and she can't stop me from getting a detention. Especially after the show I played in front of the class, calling the teacher a "controlling fuckfaced bitch" isn't something to be ignored just because the pupil actually wants the detention. But I do hope she wont ask to many questions about my strange request.

I sigh, stretching out my legs under the table and leaning forward to carry on copying out from this pointlessly stupid dictionary. I'm half way through the definition of the word “Dynamo”. Nearly done now. Nearly home time.

“So Amy, why did you speak to me so rudely when your results came back with an F?” Mrs Alexis finally spoke, placing that stupid book down onto her desk.

She props her long pointed chin up onto her bony delicate hands. Looking at me through those magnified glasses emotionlessly with no facial expressions playing her aged and worn out face. I can't tell if she's trying to get me to own up for the real reason why I wanted detention or she's trying to determine the reasons for my behaviour. Both unfortunately lead up to why I don't want to go home tonight. And so, I stay silent.

God, I hate teachers. Always onto something.

I give a shrug, “Just got annoyed. A lot on my mind recently.”

Mrs Alexis chuckles softly, “I can assure you Amy, when I was your age and at school, I had a lot more on my mind than you do now. Yet I still got an A in most of my grades. And look where I am now. I'm teaching you.”

“Yeah, well what sort of stuff did you have on your mind that is so far worse than what I'm having to cope with now?” I sneer a little more harshly than I wanted to.

But Mrs Alexis just chuckles again. “I have no intention of sharing my private life with you, but all I will say is that it involved acts against the law. But that's all I'm going to share with you.”

“Aw come on miss, who am I to tell?” I whine playfully, leaning back in my chair.

“Ha, Amy, I have no doubt that if I told you, it would end up all over the school by tomorrow morning and most likely on every social network to name.”

I smirk at that, playing the game her way. I know what she's trying to do. She's trying to soften me up. Make a joke out of the situation so I'll feel more comfortable to let all my troubles spill. I aim to disappoint her though and just occupy myself with my assignment to hide my discomfort. I hang my head over my work, hiding protectively behind a curtain of dark brown hair as I keep my eyes down.

But Mrs. Alexus attempts to press the subject further.

“Is Everything alright at home Amy? I know it's hard living in a care home. I used to have a friend who spent her entire life in one, until she finally turned sixteen and left. So I know that you probably find it hard. With only a year to go until your sixteen and can move out as well. Are you finding the pressure hard?” She asked.

But that's it. She pushed the dagger further. It didn't take her long to figure it out did it? I Just ignore her question, keeping my head down and carrying on with my writing. Only a few pages to go until I can leave. I need to hold back the tears until then, my handwriting getting darker and darker as I find I'm putting more and more pressure on the pencil.

“You know, if you want, you can always talk to me about anything-”

I get up, grabbing my rucksack and slinging it over my shoulder all in one swift move. I'm done with my fifty fucking words and I'm going home. I leave the classroom without hesitating, slamming the classroom door behind me. As I walk down the corridor I'm actually surprised to find Mrs Alexis not following me. Good. I can deal with the consequences of my early departure tomorrow when I next see her but right now I just want to get home and go to sleep...for the rest of my life preferably. And hopefully without Roger and his little 'followers' annoying me again like they did night before. They chucked my belongings out my bedroom window. Little fuckers. It had taken me ages to gather it all back up again only to return the whole lot back into my bedroom. Emily blamed me for it. She thought it was another one of my rages and I'd chucked my stuff out the window to cool off my anger.

All I want is to live my life and get on with things. Is that too much to ask?

I approach the school's front double doors moodily, nodding at Mr Alan the caretaker as I pass him. He smiles back, ignoring my obvious mood and waving to me cheerfully. Sweet Mr Alan. All the kids in the school think he's great just because he lets people off for littering or smoking on school grounds.

The school is deathly quiet. That's mostly because I'm the only pupil in the school at the moment apart from the genius maths group working on the second floor in classroom MU8. But we don't hear much from them either: they're all too busy solving long equations and all shit like that. I like the school this quiet though: It gives me room in my head to think.

I grunt with pleasure at the silence, finally opening the double doors and feeling the breeze hit me in the face like a wet towel. I shiver with pleasure. It's nice to feel air after being cooped up in a stuffy classroom for two long tedious hours. I feel like running out and skipping all the way home. But that might look a little dodgy in front of sweet Mr Alan.

So instead I just walk out normally, taking my usual route around the back of the building where all the sheds storing P.E equipment are. I usually take the long walk home so I can get home later therefore having to suffer less time in hell. Plus the later I get there, the less time I'll have to spend with Rodger and his band of idiots.

I head around the sheds and past the garbage bins. The dazzling moon is out already, hanging in the sky like a light bulb. I better be back quick then; Emily gets annoyed when I return after dark. But little did I know that I was going to arrive home way after dark tonight. It was as I came to the sheds when it happened.

I walk along normally like nobodies business, brushing my hand across the concrete wall as I walk past and quietly dreaming inside my own head. I glance through the windows of the offices as I pass them, hoping to catch them dancing, doing yoga or hoola hooping in their office but unfortunately most of the teachers have gone home. The only ones available are too busy writing reports or planning lessons. Dammit. One day.

One second I'm walking past Mrs Ellie's office who was involved in a deep conversation on the phone. Next I hear a rumbling. Then came the noise. A growling noise. Almost like a beast awakened from deep inside a cave. I do what the first thing that pops up in my head tells me to do.

Look up.

And that's when I see it. Heading towards me through the sky. A whining. Fire. This horrible hissing noise that pounds through my ears and makes my head ring. A falling ball of fire, almost like a meteor...plummeting towards this very spot.

My senses snap back into life, the cogs in my brain start turning and working out a solution to my current deer-caught-in-headlights problem. This is usually the part in a film where you scream at the main character for not running for their lives. But in situations like these your brain just simply shuts off. Like when a fuse receives to much heat. It melts.

Even though the solution is simple. Dive to the side or be squished like a fly. I roll sideways- landing hard on the wet gravel with a thud. The meteor...thing, is so close to me I can feel the warming heat on my legs. I roll quickly left so I'm sitting up against the shed. Squeezing my eyes tight and waiting for impact. Praying for dear life and hoping I did enough to buy a ticket to heaven after this because once this baby lands there's no way I'm surviving.

But nothing happens. In fact, the thing hasn't even landing yet. My eyes blink open. I look up. Staring in astonishment as the rock slows down as it draws towards the ground. It stops a meter from the gravel before gravity is released and it finally thuds to the ground with a thump.